Crumpets and Marmalade on Super Bowl Sunday

I DON’T know a field goal from a touchdown, and spend most Super Bowl Sundays wishing a pigskin were a crunchy fried snack. But there is one thing I love about the day: Every year I can snag last-minute tickets to sold-out movies or make reservations at perpetually booked restaurants.

This year, while most football lovers will be crowding around the TV, clutching cold brews and hot wings, I’ll be hosting a tea party for my toddler daughter, partying hard, lace doily style. I invite any football-averse comrades out there to do the same, though if you don’t have a toddler, you may want to call up a few like-minded adult friends. If the food and drink aren’t tempting enough, tell them you’ve rented a Colin Firth movie, too.

On the menu, there will be steaming crumpets slathered in mock clotted cream, a bowl of homemade Meyer lemon and blood orange marmalade and delicate tea sandwiches piled high on a plate.

Photo

Credit
Andrew Scrivani for The New York Times

My recipe for marmalade is pretty simple. No need for candy thermometers or sterilized jars. I just simmer the slivered citrus until the peels are soft, then stir in granulated sugar, as well as a little Demerara (raw) sugar, which gives the preserves a caramelized, molasses note. The recipe makes a small batch, so you can store it in the refrigerator. It should last for several weeks, though surely you’ll eat it all before then.

I also cheat a little with the crumpets, frying them up free-form without employing crumpet or English-muffin rings. They come out flat, like pancakes, with a deep yeasty flavor and crisp crust. Though if you like molds, try using cookie cutters: hearts, diamonds, clubs and spades give the party a very “Alice in Wonderland” feel.

Hot crumpets beg for clotted cream. Traditional recipes call for simmering cream for a couple of hours in a double boiler, then removing and chilling the cream, or clot, that forms on top. I did this once, and it was delicious, though not entirely worth it since you can buy clotted cream, or make a fake, mascarpone-based version that’s just as good.

It wouldn’t be a proper tea party without a plate of soft, crustless tea sandwiches that even the toothless can consume. I’m going to riff on bagels and lox, spreading caper-herbed butter on slices of whole-wheat bread and layering on smoked salmon and thinly sliced radishes.

A little before kickoff, my daughter and I will pour the tea (Assam for me, chamomile for her) and sit down with our guests, certain that none of them — two fluffy pink kitties, a teddy bear and a plush gorilla named Herman — will be even slightly tempted to check the score.

A version of this article appears in print on February 2, 2011, on Page D3 of the New York edition with the headline: Crumpets and Marmalade On Super Bowl Sunday. Order Reprints|Today's Paper|Subscribe